Wings of Darkness
by RavenPrincess42
Summary: Dean finds true love on the eve of the end of the world, but as the world burns and friends become enemies, will their love be enough to save them from the darkness closing in? DeanxBella Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

AN I'm SO excited about this story. Dean and Bella are totally made for each other, and I can't wait to see where this story goes! Please R&R!

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><p>In two weeks, all of my dreams were going to come true. I loved Edward more than I could ever imagine loving someone; as if he was the icy fire I craved more than life itself and needed to survive. Still, even that was not enough to fill the aching hole in my heart that threatened to consume me from within. I was beginning to have doubts.<p>

Even though it was June, it was raining again, a solid curtain of doom that shrouded the house like cobwebs—sticky, unbreakable and deadly. It matched the gray emptiness inside me.

Charlie was gone when I woke up on Saturday, and he'd left a note to say he would be at the police station. He had been working a lot recently. He had said something about there being a lot of strange deaths, but I had been worried about my upcoming wedding and my attention was elsewhere, focused on Edward's angelic face and Adonis body, and the terrifying unknown that stretched before us like a Stygian abyss.

Today, Edward was on one of his hunting trips, and I was bored. I tried to read, but even "Jane Eyre" could not hold my interest while my insides writhed like a seething pit of newly awakened rattlesnakes.

I decided to take Charlie a sandwich for lunch.

My truck's engine stuttered as I pulled into the parking lot behind the police station, and I banged my hand against the dash. I hated this truck.

The parking lot was almost full, and there was only one spot close. The car next to mine was long and black, and when I saw it, my heart began to beat faster. For a second I forgot to breathe. _No, it couldn't be_. The thought that it might be true made my head light, and my already pounding heart stutter to a stop. _It can't be. Not after all this time. _

Charlie was standing by the coffee machine, deep in conversation with two tall, suit-wearing men. The shorter of the two men turned to look at me, and I _knew _him. His name caught in my throat, trying to tear itself free like a small bird trapped in a cage, its wings fluttering uselessly against the bars.

There was shock written across his face, burned into the crease of his forehead, inscribed in the beautiful sea-green globes of his eyes, which glowed just as brightly as I remembered them. _Dean_.

"Bella?" There was something like wonder there too.

"What?" the other man, the taller one, asked. There was none of the openness I saw in Dean face in his.

"Y'all know each other?" Charlie said, looking at my beloved Dean.

"Yeah," Dean said, his voice a somber baritone filled with promises and dark chocolate. "Yeah, we do."

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><p>AN2 So what do you think? Should I post more?<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**AN**: Hi! Thank you so much for all the reviews! You guys rock! So here's chapter 2! Hope you enjoy!

**Warning:** This chapter contains strong language. Just so you know! :)

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><p><span>Dean<span>

He couldn't believe it.

All these years, and he'd thought he'd never see Bella again. He'd never smell the strawberries and freesia of her shampoo, never behold the light shining off of her hair, never hear her beautiful, musical laugh that rang in his ears like a waterfall in springtime.

And here she was, standing in front of him, the light from the open door illuminating her from behind, making her look like some kind of goddess who had the power to crush his soul in her grasp.

"Well, ain't that something," the cop chortled in response to Dean's pronouncement. "Bella, you never told me you knew these fine young agents."

"I was trying to forget them," Bella whispered, her soft chocolate orbs meeting Dean's sea-green ones. Something sparked and twisted inside him, and he knew it was the pain of how he'd abandoned Bella all that time ago, how he'd saved her life in a dark alley in Phoenix, and then vanished, nothing more than a sultry wiff of aftershave and leather, and the fading echoes of a rumbling engine that growled like a wild beast in the dark gloom of the night.

"What are you doing here?" she interjected, her eyes flashing like summer lightning, fearsome, electric, and angry.

"Well, there's the thing darling," Charlie drawled. "They're lookin' into those darn funky deaths we've been having." He turned to look at the studly brothers. "What'd you say? That we're dealin' with some kind of serial killer?"

"That's right sir," Dean said smoothly, though his eyes never left Bella's. "I'm sure we'll catch it—him—in no time. Hey," he said softer, his voice dropping into a murmuring rush like the October wind rustling long grass along the seaside, "do you want to get a coffee sometime?"

Bella blushed like a rose in bloom, the first tint of spring painting her perfectly round cheeks.

"Yeah," she sighed.

Dean heard Sam snort, but ignored him. Just because his brother had no romance in his life didn't mean that Dean couldn't. Then Dean froze, his thoughts grinding to a halt as his breath caught in his throat. Romance. All those things that he never did, cuddling, dates, coffee, for one second he had pictured doing all those things with Bella. The instant he admitted the thought, he knew it was true. With Bella, he was willing to give all those things a try. He was staggered by the thought.

Dean couldn't focus on the case after that. Finally, Sam dragged him out to the car, whirling to face him with his gigantic height.

"What the hell are you doing, Dean?" he demanded. "We're on a case here, and all you could look at was some jailbait girl."

Dean bristled like a drunken porcupine, his hackles rising as his brother's sharp words hit home. "This isn't some—fling," he shot back. "I care for Bella."

"Because you've known her for all of 30 minutes."

Dean stared dumbly at his brother, realizing that Sam just didn't understand. "You don't understand," he told him. "We have a…connection. There's something there that I just can't deny, that I can't break even if I wanted too. Bella and I are bound together, Sam, by destiny, and I can't deny it."

"Bullshit," Sam ejaculates.

_He's so angry_, Dean realized sadly. _He's so messed up from Ruby that he's forgotten that real love exists, and he can't bring himself to admit it's something I can have. _"I'm sorry you feel that way," he said aloud. "But this is something real, and it's going to happen."

Sam snarled quietly, teeth bared like some kind of swamp-dwelling prehistoric reptile. "Whatever, man," he hissed. "Go get your coffee. I'm going to go see if Cas has any news."

He stalked off into the gloom, leaving Dean with his heart in his cowboy boots, as well as a lot of water; he'd been standing in a puddle. Then he remembered that Bella was still inside the police station, waiting for him to take her out for coffee. His beautiful Bella, with whom, for the first time, Dean felt hope.

He turned and squelched back into the police station, feeling his heart lighten with every step, like it was going to sprout wings and fly up into the sky like a small, happy, bird.

He had some things he needed to tell Bella.

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><p><strong>AN2:<strong> So, what do you think? Please R&R! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Sorry this took so long, stuff got crazy, and I kind of lost my inspiration for this story. Thanks to my awesome friends though, the plot bunnies are back. Also, thank you so much for the wonderful reviews, guys! Hope you like this!**

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><p>"Hey, Bella." A husky voice caught my attention as I turned to leave the police station. I turned towards it, my breath catching in my throat. It was Dean.<p>

"Do you want that coffee?" he asked, gazing at me with eyes full of something dark and worshipful that I couldn't name.

It took me a few tries to make my voice work. "Sure," I finally croaked, feeling impossibly conflicted; Edward would be back soon, but I couldn't leave Dean like this, with so many things unsaid.

We left our vehicles in the parking lot and walked to the coffee shop.

The coffee shop was almost empty, just a few old lumberjacks swilling the dreary remains of their coffee like thick brown mud in the bottom of their mugs.

We made our orders, and I picked a table while Dean waited for our drinks. It was taking me longer than I'd expected to get my quickly-beating heart under control. It was still pounding at my ribs like a jackhammer, every glance from Dean sending it into further into paroxysms of tortured emotion.

Dean came back with our coffees, setting mine down in front of me while he slid into his chair, his magnificent muscles bunching and writhing under his jeans.

"So," he said. His voice was impossibly low and deep, the echoes of his monosyllabic utterance reverberating in my very bones, and causing a long shiver to run up my body, tingling like the gentle caress of an electric eel. "How've you been?"

"Um, okay, I guess." My hand shook, and my coffee spilled, splashing over my hand and onto the table top like a pungent brown tsunami. "Dang it!"

"Here, let me help." Dean was at my side before I even registered his presence. He took a napkin and carefully dabbed at my hand, the touch of the paper like a downy feather against my skin. I leaned into his space, inhaling his familiar scent—leather, gun oil, the pungent musk of his manliness. My head swam, and my breathing faltered. _Edward_, I had to make myself remember. _I love Edward_.

Then he pulled back, perhaps sensing my sudden whirling cascade of hurricane emotions, and the moment was broken.

"I'm getting married," I blurted, the words crashing out of my mouth like an unstoppable avalanche. As soon as they're out, I want to take them back, want to snatch them out of the air like a mosquito on a bug zapper.

Dean reeled back, startled. "What?"

Now the words aren't so much an avalanche as something thick and slimy that's dragging its way out of my throat. "In two weeks."

"To who?" Dean is frowning, his cherry-blossom pink mouth twisted in a serpentine frown.

I don't know what to say—do I tell Dean the truth that my heart pleads to share with him, or do I keep it from him?

"Bella?" He was staring at me with the luminous viridian emerald pools of his eyes. Should I tell him the truth? I felt something for Dean that I had never experienced before—how could I lie to him? Every lie that I told him felt like it would be a dagger in my own heart.

"Dean," I said, my words slow and unwilling, like a volcano of slow-running molasses. "The truth is—"


	4. Chapter 4

Dean

When Bella had announced she was engaged, Dean had felt his heart stutter and falter, the air in his lungs turning to stabbing icicles.

"Bella—" he'd pleaded, needing an answer like he always needed a giant steaming slice of apple pie, but so, so terrified of her response.

"Dean—" she'd started, but then the door of the coffee shop burst open, revealing a gigantic shape silhouetted in the doorway. It was Sam. Dean sighed, the icicles melting and settling into his stomach, where they bubbled with all the seething frustration of curdled milk.

"Dean!" Sam bellowed. "We have to go!"

Dean shot a frantic glance at the ethereal goddess sitting across from him, drying coffee staining her sleeve. "Bella," he rumbled, "wait here. I'll be right back." His eyes held a promise that he could only pray she understood.

He stalked away from the table towards his annoying little brother like a panther in the jungle.

"Well," he snapped. "What is it?" 

"The angels are coming," Sam gasped. "Cas just told me. We have to get out of here!"

_Angels? Here? _"How did they find us?"

"I don't know, but if they catch up with us, we're screwed."

"But, if we go now—" He glances back at the table, at the woman, at _Bella_, waiting for him. "The people we leave here will be in danger."

"And if you say yes to Michael, _everyone_ will be in danger," Sam sniped.

"What?" Dean stared at his brother, comprehension creeping across his face. "You're scared."

"What? No! Dude, we just need to get out of here!"

"You don't trust yourself to not say yes to Lucifer!"

Sam sighed hugely. "Look, I'm leaving, okay? Trust me, you're not doing anyone any favors by staying." He faced his older and more diminutive brother squarely. "Are you coming, or are you going to wait around here for Zachariah to show up?"

Dean knew it would be a decision that would change him for the rest of his life, however short that might be, but he knew the answer, and he could tell in his heart that he was making the choice that would be the best—not only for him, but for _Bella_.

"I have to protect Bella," he pronounced, and Sam's eyebrows shot up underneath his shaggy hair. "I'll catch up with you once I know she's safe."

Sam opened his mouth, but no words came out. Something dark and sinister burned in his eyes, like the last remnants of a glowing ember smoldering in the darkness of ancient moldering dungeons.

"Fine," he snapped through gritted teeth. "I'll see you later." He turned on his heel, and loped out of the coffee house, casting a long dark shadow in the dimly wavering sunlight.

Dean watched him go, feeling knotted regret coiling in his stomach. He knew where his heart truly lay though, and he couldn't deny it any longer. He walked back to the table and rejoined Bella.

"So," he said cockily, his cheerfulness a fake veneer covering the apprehension and grief his conversation with his brother had inspired. "Where were we?"

Bella was weeping silently, her tears tracing snail-trail-like tracks down her perfect cheeks. "I can't be with you Dean," she murmurs, "not in the way you want—that I want."

Dean's tangled emotions coalesced into a single heavy ball of lead that weighed heavily somewhere in his midsection. "What?" he stammered. "Why?"

"Because I'm not just getting married," she gasped. "I'm getting married to a vampire!"


End file.
